Late Dance
by DJ Dubois
Summary: After the end of "Captain America: The First Avenger," Steve's dealing with memories and adjusting to 2011.  Meantime Fury's got a mission for him over in England.  What's going on?  Please r & r!
1. Memories

Late Dance

DJ Dubois

August 2011

Notes: Captain America and the other characters from the movie belong to Marvel Comics.

Timeline: Set during the present day between the end of the movie and _The Avengers_.

Chapter 1 [Recovery Center—Times Square, New York]

Fall had begun to creep in on the northeastern United States in those days. The hills exploded in their annual October blaze of glory. A cool wind bit through the residual warmth clinging to the countryside. For some, it was time to rummage through the closets and find those winter clothes before Jack Frost came to visit.

Steve Rogers sat in wonder before one of the computers in SHIELD's old library section. As with everything in this "future-present," he struggled to understand how the world's information now came on a screen two-third's the size of his shield and with such speed. _I'd rather the microfilm and books. Just something else to get used to. _

"How's it going, Captain Rogers?" a pretty brunette intern inquired helpfully. "Can I help you with a search?"

"I'd appreciate that and…" He turned to look at her and stopped cold.

Her chocolate brown locks flowed the same. Her lipstick matched a past familiar red. Her eyes held a confident yet gentle glance for him. She held her posture in just the same way. The British accent topped it off for him.

"Margaret?" he asked almost in a daze/

She straightened up. "Excuse me? Sorry, sir. Who's Margaret? I'm sorry. Did I do something?" She knew from his file that his mind often flashed back to his roots before and during World War II. From what Colonel Fury had said, she allowed him a minute to catch up.

His mind clicked back to reality. Despite his misgivings, he kept his composure. _The formula does boost everything include regret and mourning. Wish we could've had more. _He put on his best façade and got up from the chair. "I'm done for today. Can you power this down for me please?"

"Of course, Captain Rogers. Are you all right? I can escort you to the clinic if you'd like," she offered.

"Thank you, Miss. I appreciate it but I'll be okay. If anyone asks, I'll be in my room," he declined while trying to be pleasant in the process. He walked out of the library slowly and back toward his room.

The intern sat down at the terminal. She logged him out and logged herself in. Then, according to protocol, she reported the situation to Fury. _I hope Captain Rogers is going to be okay!_

[An hour later—Steve's Room]

Once he had returned to his quarters, Steve paced about the room and stared out the window toward the twenty-first century pandemonium outside. He turned on the MP3 player as the colonel had shown him and let big band music echo through the space. He felt a lonely ache in his heart. Despite the stiff upper lip he carried, he felt the pain of loss.

…loss for his world…

…Bucky….

…the Howling Commandos….

…and most of all, Agent Carter….

_They're gone. Everyone's gone. _He grabbed a coffee cup and tensed as if to throw it across the room in frustration. Then his own sense of decorum fought down the destructive impulse. "Just something else Schmitt took from me. Thankfully he can't hurt anyone else."

"Too bad you didn't throw that thing. I wanted to see what kind of an arm you had, Chief," a cocky almost sarcastic voice presumed.

Steve wheeled around and stared at a flashback from his past. "Howard?"

Tony Stark considered the remark. "Close. You knew my old man. Man he looked for you _forever. _Glad to finally meet his personal holy grail. Name's Tony Stark. You're his big super soldier, Captain Steven Rogers." He held his hand out. "You get to work with me now."

Steve grudgingly took the other's hand. Tony obviously took his father's brashness to a new level. Still if he was even a fifth of the elder's intellectual peer, the industrialist would be a valuable ally. "Your Dad was a great guy, Mr. Stark. I got to fly a mission with him over Italy actually."

"Yeah that deal to free the 107th. What did they call themselves? The Hooligans or something?" Tony recalled.

"The _Howling Commandos_." Steve let a bit of anger flash through his eyes. "Those men fought hard for our country. Show a little respect. Please."

"My Dad wasn't exactly the greatest guy either, Rogers. Just so you know. Oh so caught up in his work," Tony countered.

"Be that as it may, Stark, Captain Rogers is right. Have some respect for the guys in uniform," Nick Fury asserted. His good right eye cut right through the other visitor. "You're on thin enough ice as it is."

Stark rolled his eyes. "You need me, Colonel. No me. No Iron Man. Remember that. I'm happy to help get Rip Van Winkle here up to speed."

"Are you done?" Fury supposed while folding his arms. He wasn't impressed by the industrialist's latest threat. "I need to speak with Captain Rogers about something. Why don't you come back later?"

"Yeah I can see that. Too bad we can't get that chick from MI-6. What was her name? Marge? Millie? Dad said she was really great looking and…."

"Her name was _Margaret_," Steve asserted. "I'll thank you not to talk about her like that either!"

"That's enough, Stark. Take off before I put you in detention," Fury ordered. By now the fire burned clearly in his right eye.

"Yeah I'll do that," Stark groused and stalked off.

"Thank you, Colonel," Steve expressed while slumping onto the bed. "What's with him?"

Fury took a deep breath. "Howard and Tony never really got along. That became worse when his mother, Maria, died. Howard pushed himself after that. Tony did after that. Sometimes I wish Tony wasn't such a genius. I'd love to shove my boot right up his ass and out the door. Sorry about that remark about Agent Carter." He listened to the music wafting throughout the room for a long minute and considered the context. "Is this her song or something?"

Steve shrugged. "I don't know. We never had a chance to go dancing."

"The date you mentioned that day outside," Fury presumed. "I know how hard it is to lose people you love, Captain. Now you understand why I wanted to take it slowly with you?"

"I appreciate that, Colonel. Thank you," Steve expressed.

"Not a problem. Just trying to be sensitive. By the way, if you want to visit her, I can arrange that," Fury offered.

"What? Colonel, she has to be dead! It's 2011!" Steve protested. Then he saw the frank affirmation in Fury's right eye. "Please don't joke about this."

"I never joke about such things, Captain Rogers. I didn't mention it before because I wanted to double check all of the details," Fury assured him. "While we were double checking all of the details of your life and the missions, Margaret Carter—or as she is now, Margaret Simmons, came up prominently. When I realized your connection to her, I had her tracked down. MI-6 came through for us. Especially when I said it was for you, the British expressed us the information with their deepest thanks and well wishes." He handed Steve a manila folder. "This is it."

Steve slowly and hesitantly took it from the superior. He opened it to find two pictures and a dossier. The picture on the right was of a slightly heavier set woman with snow white hair. But the eyes and mouth still held the fire they had during the forties. He looked at the picture on the left side.

Agent Carter, as she'd been when they'd served together, looked back at him.

He smiled and shed a tear in spite of himself. He wiped it off quickly lest he seemed too emotional in front of the superior officer.

"No shame in that. We're behind closed doors and I know how you feel about her." Fury looked him in the eye. "You've been waiting for a mission. This is it. Get that dance with her, Rogers. Just don't let it get out that I'm soft. Okay?"

Steve nodded while feeling a surge of energy throughout himself. He stood and saluted. "I appreciate this, Colonel. When do I leave?"

"We leave immediately. No offense, Captain, I trust you but in case there's any issues with technology or adjustment issues, I'd like to be on site just in case. That okay with you?" Fury supposed while returning the salute.

"Yes, sir. I'll get to packing. Should I bring my costume?" Steve queried.

"We're set. I've already taken the liberty of loading some things including your costume and shield in case we need it," Fury told him. "Figured you wouldn't mind that. Wheels go up in forty-five minutes."

Steve turned off the MP3 player and shut off the lights. Grabbing his brown swede jacket, he headed from the room and followed Fury down the hall toward the waiting car.

Destiny, it seemed, would honor that rain check after all…..


	2. Flying Across the Water

Chapter 2 [Three hours later—somewhere out in the middle of the Atlantic]

Steve sat in his seat right in the middle of the Stark Industries' latest cruiser. He couldn't believe how quickly the craft was crossing the raging ocean beneath it. _Howard would flip if he could see this! _He still recalled how the hovercraft at the World Exposition crashed.

_As I said…years away…_

Steve managed a little smile. Despite the cavalier attitude and streaks of womanizing, Howard Stark had been a great man. If what his son said, Howard never gave up on finding him enduring failure after failure. _What's the deal with your son then? _He shook his head and went back to the dossier. He kept his eye on Agent Carter's picture. _I didn't mean to give up, Peggy. _While he had used her full name in front of Fury and Stark, he referred to her by the nickname in his thoughts. _There's been so much to deal with._ He went back to her biography and read in depth.

She'd eventually rose from agent to as high as Commander before retiring in 1951 to start a family. She had married another officer, Reginald Simmons, about the same time and had two children with him now both deceased. She published an account of her career in 1985 after her husband's death.

Much to Steve's joy, he had a chapter devoted to his service in there.

_She remembered me. I never had a partner like her. I'll never have another like her again. _He glanced at her wartime picture again. _I love you, Peggy. _

Fury strode into the cabin and up to that row of seats. "She's had quite a life. You certainly picked quite a woman for yourself."

"She picked me, Colonel. She actually had faith in me before they injected me with the serum," Steve revealed. He recalled some of the incidents from basic training including the dud grenade test and capturing the flag. "Want to take a seat?"

"Thanks. I can certainly see why, Rogers. You have a strength of character and good heart that's unique. That's the reason I want you onboard," Fury assessed while sitting down across from him.

"Including this hero team project you've talked about?" Steve presumed.

"That one among others." Fury leaned forward and looked Steve in the eye. "I need you adjusted and your mind clear. If getting Margaret Simmons back is the key, hell, I'll have her flown back across the Atlantic myself if she can deal with it. She's 92 now, Cap. Remember that."

"I am. But she's still the woman I care for," Steve asserted. "I hate to ask but would you do that?"

"I could. Let's take this one step at a time, Romeo. You might want to think about what to say to her. Remember how you felt when you saw things now? You might kill her with the shock of seeing you like this," Fury advised sagely. "Maybe you might get some flowers?"

"Maybe." Steve nodded. "What kind of flowers do women like, Colonel?"

"Hell if I…" Fury looked pointedly at him. "What do you mean? You've never…?"

"I've never _officially _have had a girlfriend. She's the closest to love I've ever known," Steve conceded. "Never have had the opportunity to give flowers or anything."

"Now we _really have _to get you caught up," Fury declared gruffly while getting on his cell phone. "Hey, Richards!"

"Richards, here, Colonel!"

Fury rolled his eyes at the newbie's enthusiasm/brown nosing. "Take it down a couple of levels. Get to the florist before we get there. Pick up a mix of white, pink and red roses for the Captain. Make sure it looks _real nice_. Got it?"

"Y…yes, sir. Richards, out."

Fury signed off and shook his head. "Kid's got his heart in the right place but can't stand boot licking. Hope you were never like that."

"I went above and beyond to get into the service, Colonel, but I worked hard all the way," Steve recounted.

"That's about your speed. Maybe I should have you talk to him _and _Stark both," Fury presumed. "Mind if I light up?" He waved a cigarette in front of the other. 

Steve shook his head. "Of course not." He struck a match and lit the cigarette. "Good?"

Fury puffed a couple of times and nodded. "Works for me. At least you don't have the attitude. I have Agent Romanov working with Stark. Wait until you meet her. Super serious and moves you've never seen."

"Soviet KGB?" Steve presumed.

"_Former_ KGB. I'm putting together quite the club for you to join, Cap." Fury noticed a red light flashing overhead. "Maybe he's a smart ass but Stark puts out a great transport. We're already descending. Strap up." He crushed the cigarette in the ash tray to his right

Steve did so. _Not long now, Peggy. Not long now._


	3. At the Retirement Home

Chapter 3

[Rowling Den Retirement Home—Just north of London]

Not far from the bustle and urban sprawl of London proper, a small four building complex sat secluded behind a row of high oak trees and a lush green lawn. Each of the granite stone structures had well-manicured bushes flanking their doors, plenty of sidewalks and expansive patios. Shuffleboard and seating areas also gave the elderly residents some relief from their inner sanctums. Flowers bloomed in large planters and along the lawns as well.

But not all of the residents spent a great deal of time outdoors….

Toward the back corner of the left most building in the complex, a slightly overweight elderly woman fixed her hair and inspected her appearance in the mirror. Other than a few of her remaining friends still alive from the war, Margaret Simmons really had very few visitors. Still she led quite the life in the complex between painting in the art room, reading at the local library, volunteering for the hospital right next door and in just being a good person to those around herself.

But when a couple of MI-6 agents showed up and requested her to be ready for a "real VIP" from her past, the whole thing threw her off guard.

_Who could this VIP be? How is this person connected to me? _She glanced at her family's pictures with a mixture of regret and whimsical happiness. After losing Steve to the ice, she'd spent a few years dealing with his loss. Reginald Simmons was a fearless patriot and RAF pilot during the war. She liked and cared for him but never let him know that she kept a candle burning for her Captain. She did her duty and had two wonderful children with him, Paul and Winifred.

Yet tragedy struck her once again. While she stayed home one night to deal with the next day's holiday feast, Reginald's car skidded on the ice, crashed into an oak tree and exploded, taking her entire family out in the process.

While the British government covered the funerals, losing still more loved ones and being an orphan/widow once more almost crushed her completely. She withdrew to her lodgings in Hyde Park for several years to mourn and refused to see anyone.

She opened her dresser drawer and fished around in it. At the bottom, she felt the old black and white picture and pulled it out. She smiled while allowing a tear to sparkle in her eye for Steve as he'd been before the serum made him the super soldier. _Even then he had a brave heart and was a gentleman! I pray Reginald understood because I was faithful to him but I love Steve. It wasn't his fault that he had to crash that plane! _She took her handkerchief out and dabbed her eyes.

His final words still rang in her ears. _Be at the hall next Saturday at 8!_

She could still hear her own rejoinder. _Don't you dare be late!_

The dead air cutting him off after the crash rang heavily in her ears after seven decades. It made her chest hurt from time to time. While the doctors didn't know why she mourned, British Intelligence made sure she got what she needed with minimal questions being asked.

For the moment though, it wasn't time to grieve or brood. Whoever this "VIP" was, the person deserved the best that she could manage.

And if there was one thing that Margaret Carter Simmons could do, it was put on a brave face and do her duty for her country…..

[Outside]

Steve sat anxiously on the ride over from Rowley AFB. He inspected his tie and made sure his jacket looked straight. He studied the rose bouquet on the seat next to himself. _Is this what a date's supposed to be like?_

Fury frowned. "You're fine, Rogers. Settle down, will you? You're making _me _nervous!"

"I haven't seen her in seventy years, all right?" Steve retorted anxiously. "Besides I've never been on a date before."

_The things I do for a mission. _Fury shook his head while lighting up another cancer stick and puffing on it. At this rate, he'd almost welcome another one of Tony Stark's diva fests. Almost. As they pulled up outside, he told the other man. "Just play it cool. All right? Be yourself."

"And prepare for that lecture for being late?" Steve supposed both happily and dreading it too.

"Hey _you're _the one who _crashed_, not me, _Hero_." Fury shrugged while taking a few more puffs. "Figure you can handle what's coming?"

Steve rolled his eyes. "This is Margaret Carter…er…Simmons. I'm in deep trouble."

"Most guys are when they leave their ladies in the lurch, Cap. You can deal with the Red Skull. You can deal with her," Fury indicated from experience. "Go on. She's waiting."

Steve grabbed the bouquet and nervously headed up the walk. He entered the building without missing a beat.

_There he goes. Good luck, Cap! _Fury took a few more puffs. He figured he'd go in if needed but this one was the Star Spangled Avenger's deal…..


	4. Steve and Peggy again at long last

Chapter 4

Steve entered the building while feeling the butterflies battering inside of his stomach. Despite the enhancements (and maybe because of them), he felt more nervous than the typical male visitor. He walked around the lobby until he spotted the reception desk.

A middle aged woman with her black hair pulled back in a bun and a white dress looked up from her paperwork. "Good afternoon, sir! How can I help you?"

He smiled pleasantly and felt himself relaxing. "Good afternoon, Ma 'am." He set down the bouquet and pulled out his military ID. "I'm Captain Steve Rogers. I was hoping to see Mrs. Simmons if that's all right?"

"You must be that VIP we're expecting." She inspected the ID and handed it back to him. "She doesn't get a lot of visitors, Captain. I'm glad somebody remembers her. Mrs. Simmons is quite a lady. How long have you known her?"

He signed the guest book. "We go way back." _She would never believe how far back anyway! But why doesn't she get more visitors? Don't worry about that, Steve. _"What should I do now?"

"I'll page her. Why don't you take a seat over there, Captain Rogers?" she suggested while picking up the receiver and dialing. "Mrs. Simmons, there's a Captain Rogers to see you." She listened. "No he says that and he has official identification to that effect. All right." She set the phone down and looked at him. "Apparently you have the same name as an old flame of hers." She sighed.

"Old flame?" he asked although he knew she was referring to him.

"Apparently before she met her husband, there was another man during the war. Oh yes! And she also did some missions with that brave Captain America! Wish I could've seen him in action. My grandparents tell stories about him. Pity he had to sacrifice himself like that. You know anyone like that, Captain?"

"The armed forces are full of heroes, Ma 'am," he answered earnestly. "We give our lives every day for freedom and duty."

"That's how Mrs. Simmons says that Captain America used to speak of things," she recounted.

He nodded while feeling a little less nervous at those words. Still he fidgeted a bit.

Then he saw Peggy approach the desk while shuffling ever so subtly. He stood and remembered to keep his cover.

Meantime Peggy asked, "Pardon me, Mildred, where's my guest?"

"He's right there. Nice military type. Another captain for you to talk with," the receptionist informed her.

Peggy sighed. "There was only one captain other than Reginald. And he's been gone for…." She turned and her eyes bulged in shock. "My God!"

"Good afternoon," Steve greeted. "I…don't mean to shock you…but…"

"Steve? How?" Peggy gasped in surprise. "You're…you're…."

"Sorry I still don't know how to speak to women," he told her identifying himself and assuring her that it was indeed him.

A wide smile spread across her face. "Oh it IS YOU! I don't care how! I…." She shuffled her way across the floor and hugged him. "You survived that battle!"

"I did," he noted while seeing the receptionist watching them. "Can we talk in your room or maybe outside?" He handed her the roses. "Those are for you."

She smelled the blooms and a bright smile. "They're beautiful." She eyed him with the old glint in her eye. "You had help with these?"

"I did but I requested help in picking them out," he fudged.

"Well the thought counts," she relented. "Let's go to my room and talk. We'll have more privacy there."

"Allow me," he offered to help her.

She shook her head. "Thank you but I can get it. Follow me." She led him back into the facility proper. "Oh and by the way, you're still late."

"The alarm clock never went off." His head bowed. "Sorry."

She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. "It's all right…this once." Then they disappeared into the hall together.

Mildred shook her head. _I never thought I'd see her react like that! You'd think it was that guy from the war but Captain Rogers is too young to even be his son! _She went back to her paperwork and hoped that everything was going to go for the best.

[Peggy's Room—Seven minutes later]

Peggy admittedly struggled to comprehend the situation. About halfway down the hall, she stopped and took several breaths to compose herself. "Just…a minute."

Steve panicked. "You're okay, right? I can leave…"

"You still don't get women, do you?" She rolled her eyes as she might've during the war. "I thought you were dead, Steve. And now you're back? Let's get…to my room. We can talk there." She pointed around the corner. "Just over there." She managed to ease her door open and guide them inside. "There!" She straightened herself up. "Can't have you thinking I'm not at my best." She smoothed her blouse and skirt before giving him that confident smirk.

He definitely saw the old Peggy at that moment. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her. He felt the passions and drives every man felt in such a situation. But he was a gentleman of his times—the old times. Accordingly he stood stock still. "You could never be any less for me." He smiled warmly and let his eyes glitter into hers.

"You are impossible! Sometimes you're too much the boy scout for your own good." She crossed the chasm between them with slow shuffling steps. Still she never let her eyes leave his either. She stood before him and tilted her head slightly. "Good thing for you I can take the initiative."

"You can?" he asked although he didn't doubt it. His mind swam as well at this realization. After so long asleep—after seeing his world…no _their _world…gone, she stood in front of him again. The last piece.

The Most Important Piece of that World.

"Shut up." She caressed his lips with hers. Feather softly and belying their age, they brushed a portrait of warmth and ardor across his ice-starved mouth. She felt her lungs burning. Her stamina was wavering but she pushed on.

She wasn't about to let Her Captain go again.

He closed his eyes and grabbed onto her shoulders. He could still feel that soft feather down kiss in the car before he grabbed onto the Skull's plane for the doomed flight.

He saw her hair billowing impetuously in the Alpine chill.

Her eyes giving him one last burst of strength and faith before the clouds obscured them.

His eyes flashed open as if on instinct at that second. She swooned but his strong arms caught her cradling her like the most fragile of crystal. "I've got you. Let's sit down."

"You always…know how to do that. Even before you did," she admitted as they sat down in the two plain wooden padded chairs. "It isn't much. Hope you like it."

"It's great. I've been catching up and…." He saw her eyes diverting off to the side. "What am I doing wrong now?"

She smacked her hand on the arm rest. "You disappear for seventy years and come back like everything's normal! _Seventy years!_ Do you know how hard Howard and I searched for you?"

He sighed. "From what Colonel Fury said, the Skull's plane went down over the Arctic. I crashed it to stop it from hitting New York."

She nodded. "That's right. So you're here and still young?"

He shrugged. "I can't deal with the science stuff but according to Fury and Tony, the ice and cold put me into a deep freeze." He shook his head. "It so much like those old serials from our childhood."

"Suspended animation," she realized. "That's why you didn't age." She chuckled. "It still doesn't get you off though."

"It…doesn't?" he asked hesitantly fearing what was about to come next. For someone who'd waded into enemy fire and survived Death, her potential disdain terrified him.

"You never know how to get _anywhere _on time." She offered him that impetuous smile. "I think someone should call _Guinness _though. You set the record for being late for a date."

He laughed at her response. "Had to save the world."

"And preferring red headed maniacs over pretty officers?" she supposed.

"I never preferred Schmitt to you. He was my mission. I had to protect America. Duty and all that," he reminded her. "When SHIELD found out about you, they gave me another mission. They got me over here. Seems that the world's a much smaller place than we figured."

"Definitely has gotten smaller during your sleep, Steve. You must be overwhelmed," she noted with concern.

He frowned. "I've been catching up little by little. Over the past three months, I've been in a compound in New York City trying to put everything together. I'll get there. Meantime what about you?"

"What about me?" She sighed deeply. "My throat's parched. Perils of old age." She coughed.

"Would you like some water? I can have the nurse bring us some tea," he offered while getting up.

"The tea would be lovely. Thank you," she accepted. As he left the room, she smiled. _You haven't changed, Steve. _She dabbed her eyes again allowing herself to drop the mask for a second now that he wasn't watching. By the time he'd returned with the two cups, she had assumed her former posture.

"Just the way you take it," he told her while handing her one of the cups. "A splash of milk and two lumps."

"You remembered." Her heart skipped a beat in spite of herself.

"Never could forget something like that," he assured her while sitting back down. "You mind me asking about your life? I read your dossier. Sorry about your family. That must have been tragic." He bowed his head. "I should have been there for you."

"Oh yes! Maybe if they'd found you fifty years sooner then fine! Don't mope, Steve Rogers!" she lectured. "As you said, you were asleep. It's not like you could control it. I certainly don't blame you."

"So what was he like? Reginald, I mean?" His heart winced as he asked the question. Still out of respect for the life she'd built, he had to ask the question.

"He was a lot like you." She sighed. "I'll admit that's why I married him. We had our family and home for fifteen years until the crash. But he wasn't you. I think he knew that but I was faithful to him."

"I don't want to come between you and his memory, Peggy," Steve insisted.

"He's gone and wouldn't want me to be unhappy," she assured him. "That's his picture on the dresser."

He got up and walked over to it. He definitely saw how dashing her husband looked in his old RAF uniform. "Always have a thing for men doing their duty?"

"Always." She let her eyes shine their approval for him. "Those are our children, Paul and Winnie."

He smiled. "They must have been something. I'd expect nothing less from your kids, Peggy."

"Nor did I, Steve." She stood up. "But enough of the past." She shuffled over to the dresser and pulled out a key. "Being here does have its privileges." She waved it at him.

"And that is?" He imagined all sorts of things both polite and well scandalous.

"Relax, my Captain. I wouldn't do _anything _to tarnish that white armor of yours," she teased. "Follow me."

He gulped but followed her down the hall toward the next stage…whatever that would be.


	5. Their Dance

Chapter 5

[A/N: Thanks for the reviews, everyone! Here goes with the Big Moment!]

For several minutes, she slowly led him down the winding halls and around corners. Despite her slow gait, her determination never wavered. She was going to have that date—consequences be damned.

"You haven't said where we're going," he pointed out.

"It's a surprise," she retorted. "What's the matter? You don't trust me?"

"Into Hell itself if need be," he affirmed without a second's hesitation.

"Well good. Hate to think you'd leave a lady hanging," she shot back slyly. She stopped in front of a sliding glass door. "Our recreation room." She leaned up against it. "Just need a minute."

"I can take you outside if you want to sit and talk," he offered.

"Then we can't do what I have in mind. Steve, I promised to teach you…how to dance. I get a couple of songs for those seventy years, right?" she countered.

"As long as we take it easy," he urged caringly.

"I've cooled my heels long enough. Time to let my hair down," she declined. She smiled while unlocking the door. "Mind getting the door for a girl?"

"Always," he agreed while sliding the glass door open. "I'm afraid these new songs really make my ears hurt, Peggy."

She shrugged. "Have faith, my Captain. I've never failed you yet, have I?" She shuffled over to the MP3 player. "I had one of the orderlies show me how to use this. That young man was a dear. He helped me to…_burn…_or whatever they call the process…a collection of our songs. Want a listen?" She pressed a button and grinned.

Instead of the techno-pop he recalled from New York, his mouth dropped. The device played big band music. _His music…no their music. _"That's Count Basie!"

"Why yes. I believe it is," she supposed impetuously. "The young may have their tools, Steve, but we can use them too." She pressed a button cycling out of that tune and down to another. "But for us, I want something more appropriate…."

Now a few other familiar notes wafted to his ears. "You remembered."

"You aren't the only one who knows someone's likes," she noted warmly. She held her hands out. "Come on. Nice and slow. It's all right."

He gingerly took her hands in his. "What do we do next?" He drew her closer.

"Just follow my lead," she urged. "It's all right. I don't bite you know."

"Can we ask the Nazis?" he gibed in spite of himself.

"You're not the only one duty-driven, Steve." She smirked. "Forward and back. One two…one two….follow the music."

He allowed himself to float on "Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered." As he did, he closed his eyes imagining that they were back in an officers' club. Around them their friends watched and admired them.

But that didn't matter….

He saw her once more as he had been….young, vibrant and ready to dive into the next round of Hydra-induced Hell at his side.

He relaxed and drew her still closer. He didn't feel the modern world. He didn't care.

All that mattered was the woman in his arms.

She didn't say a word noting that he'd already picked up on the slow dance technique. As he did, she could see herself back then as well. She melted into his arms feeling safe. As the song shifted to "Dearly Beloved," she felt content. She knew she'd hurt in the morning from the exertion but she didn't care.

She'd take the pain for this moment of bliss….

Lastly a familiar waltz from Henry Purcell's _Fairy Queene_ played for them.

He recognized the song and looked at her still in the dream.

"Our song, Steve…." Her lips brushed his softly; their ardor once more burning yet warming his. "The moment." She hesitated; her energy wavering yet again.

The cocoon splintered and disappeared instantly.

He caught her once again. "You shouldn't push yourself like that."

"Had to try….my Captain. I'll be all right," she gasped. "Nothing…was going to cheat me of our moment."

He gently carried her over to the couch at the side of the room. "We can catch up at our leisure."

"Steve, I…." She started to sob. "I've had nothing but waiting…"

"I'm back now. Knowing Fury, I can visit," he promised. "I will visit."

"You better mean…that," she insisted.

"Try and stop me. No red headed menaces this time, I promise." He kissed her softly again. "Rest. I'm here."

She smiled and reclined back against the soft cushions under her heart's watch. "Maybe another cup of tea?"

"I'm on it. And…." He heard a knocking behind him. "Colonel?"

"Had to check on the government's asset and reach some understandings," Fury explained. "Your reunion raised eyebrows out there. People were figuring out before we were ready."

"Steve, I'm sorry. I didn't think," she apologized.

"It's okay, Peggy. We'll take care of it," he assured her. "Won't we?"

Fury handed them each a hot cup. "Yeah we will. The staff's been told that you're family, Cap. You can come and go as you'd like—no questions asked." He gruffly looked her over. "What Captain Rogers said goes for me too, Mrs. Simmons. Don't kill yourself. Got it? You're useful to us too."

"Useful? What?" she asked.

Fury shrugged. "Someone needs to keep him grounded."

"Right," she agreed after a sip of tea to warm her throat. "As if I'm going to let him wander off? And you're the Colonel Fury Steve referred to?"

"Yes, Ma 'am. A pleasure. The Captain needs moments like these for the mission ahead," he affirmed. "I'll let you two be alone again. Whenever you're ready, Rogers." With that he walked out of the room.

"New boss?" she coughed.

"Same one just a different supervisor," he clarified. "I'm still working for Uncle Sam."

"As if you could do anything else?" she supposed. "Whatever I can do, Steve. Don't…leave me…on the sidelines."

"Never," he vowed. "Never again. Just rest."

She sat up and took another sip from her tea. "As you wish." She smiled contentedly.

And so they wound up the afternoon reminiscing about their past endeavors and catching up. Their hearts lightened for a minute. Everything else didn't matter. And with Fury's promise, it wouldn't be the last such moment for them.

Rather than a romance buried under Age's frost….a flame melting its snow and a spring blooming anew between lovers too separated…..


	6. Visit to Tony's Lab and Surprises

Conclusion [Two Days Later—New York—Stark's Lab]

[A/N: Jane Foster comes from "Thor" and belongs to Marvel Studios.]

Fresh off of the extended visit, Steve walked through the corridors with a relaxed and happy gait. While still serious about the job at hand and his readjustment to the world, his heart felt lighter. He whistled that Count Basie tune happily.

Everyone around him said nothing. They were glad that he'd found something to be happy about.

He entered Tony's lab to find the industrialist pouring over some plans. "Excuse me, Tony?"

"Yeah?" Tony turned to find Steve standing in the door. "Hey. Heard you had a great trip overseas. Did you find her?"

"It was her. We visited and danced," Steve recounted. "It was worth the wait, you know?"

Tony managed a smile thinking of his assistant/girlfriend, Pepper Potts. "Yeah they are. By the way, got something to show you, Big Guy." He motioned to the computer by the door. "I set something up for you."

Steve quirked an eyebrow. "What? On that?"

"Relax. It's nothing that's going to blow those boy scout attitude," Tony assured him irreverently. "Just look. Oh and move the mouse too." He leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smirk.

Steve moved the mouse and found a video chat module on the screen. "What's this?"

"Click the arrow in the bottom left corner and find out, Chief," Tony directed. "Don't keep America waiting now."

Steve bit his tongue at the younger man's attitude but knew he was up to something in his own way. He clicked the arrow and recognized what was on the other side. "That's where I was!"

"It most certainly is," a familiar voice announced from the side of the screen. Peggy sat down in front of the computer on her end. "As if you'd think I'd not come up with something?"

"How? I…" Steve stared at Tony in shock.

"Joys of the modern world, Rogers. If I can cook up devices for SHIELD and Stark Enterprises, a simple feed like this is easy. And if it keeps you happy, it works, right?" Tony supposed. "Just remember, Fury does want you to get some work done too."

"I have faith in him, Stark," Fury interjected gruffly while entering the area. "Got a new project for you. Seems the last member of our club's stuck. Need your expertise to work with someone in the know. And no, it's not a request." He motioned into the hallway.

A slender brunette woman hustled purposefully into the room. She wore a blue jacket, a button down blouse and a pair of black jeans. Under her arm, she carried a rolled up set of plans. Over her other shoulder, a laptop case. "You're a tough man to catch up with, Mr. Stark."

Tony quirked an eyebrow. "Sorry, Toots, I already have a girlfriend. Nice effort though."

Steve shook his head while dealing with his disgust. "Sorry, Miss. I'm Steve Rogers. Whatever I can do to help."

"Dr. Jane Foster. I appreciate your…_concern_. I've traveled from New Mexico to Malibu and back here. This is where Ms. Potts and Ms. Romanov said he'd be," Jane reported. "I'd do anything to get your last team member back."

"Mr. Stark, listen to them," Peggy added from the connection. "Howard told me of the issues between you two. Don't punish them."

"Did he?" Tony bristled. He wanted to lash out but knew it really wouldn't make any difference. "Okay, Gang, I can fly our newbie wherever. What's the hush hush about?"

Jane chuckled. "Can you fly me to _Asgard_, Mr. Stark? That's where he is. Work with me. I have the plans here for a device. I need your expertise to check my specs and work through it."

"Heck of a dream there, Missy Miss," Tony deadpanned sarcastically.

"Then you're going to dream it with her," Fury interjected firmly; his open right eye blazing into Tony's.

"As you said, Mr. Rogers, when you find that person and all that. You all need him. So do I for my own reasons," Jane announced.

Steve recognized the fire in the newcomer's eyes. He looked to Peggy and then nodded. "I'm sure Tony will help."

"Yeah sure." Tony nodded. "Nobody's tackled the gateway yet. Why the Hell not?"

Jane expressed although not giving an inch. "I do appreciate it, Gentlemen and...Madam."

"Our pleasure. Steve, catch up later?" Peggy offered.

"Try and stop me this time," Steve noted as they signed off. "I'll leave you two to your devices." He placed his hand on Jane's arm. "We'll get him back, Dr. Foster. Count on that." With that, he left the room.

"Must be some guy to do this," Tony insisted while wondering how he ended up in the Lonely Hearts Club from Hell.

"He is, Mr. Stark. He's one of a kind," she replied while keeping her face neutral. She glanced toward the sky. _We're coming! I will get you back!_

While one miracle had been accomplished, another was underway. Steve and Peggy had one another once more. Now a bigger project loomed.

But that one is the subject of another story…..

THE END (for now)


End file.
